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akala - westwood freestyle(2008) lyrics
[verse 1 – akala]
i set the times like greenwich meridian
rhymes good for any terrain, like amphibians
mr brazilian, blown to oblivion
tough guy snivelling when i start chiselling
raps on stone tablets like hieroglyphics is
writing can’t quite define how my lyrics is
rhetorical, historical, metaphorical oracle
compare to me yo, your son ain’t prodigal
impossible to you, to me its quite probable
i am the one i feel it to my hair follicles
so sure, never been a spitter that’s so raw
there just about digesting what i was doing in ‘04
so ’08 your late, go get your mate
cuz, can’t you see, can’t you see i scr-ped the plate
i speak truth your booth is a cinema
you rap a little, i compose literature
that’s very separate like a sket in a celibate
intelligence or precedence, i’m a terrible terrorist
split second of hesitance will cost you your residence
so what you think is, the top of what is everest
compared to galaxies, that’s when you challenge me
your reality is complete and utter fallacy
so wrong no matter how you try to prolong
i stroll on still studying stars like the dogon
i’m so gone, couldn’t come back if i wanted to
my honest view is the only thing i promise you
oh and, flow with the wisdom of old mans
i don’t do seconds like a watch with a broke hand
yo fam, this is second nature like another earth
must see me this year, like another he-rs-
no tug, p-ssyhole, go grab another purse
but please whatever you do, don’t rap another verse
you’re not on my level negro please
how can you talk to me when you don’t even read
while i, study degrees but attend no cl-sses
no profit, just don’t rap about -rs-s
like all of you pickneys, no matter who you pick me
the hiv mc you can’t live with me
nor go against me, flow to immense be
i’m scoring no matter how strong your defence be
i feel like it’s a race but everybody’s walking
and i got 2 speeds, horses, the porsches
of course it’s the raw sh-t, that hit ’em like a horse kick
forfeit, here’s the flow tight as a corset, pause it
take a second to think proper
you will come a cropper if you ramp with the topper topper!
dungargan, knock you out like yard rum
bredrin don’t you that my style just can’t done
i know no other way, just can’t stop ascending
just like you, just can’t stop pretending
silly kids, ain’t you sick of your silly fibs
really that scared just to be who you really is
your tasting american sh-t, tongue like brown
talking like a tug when you’re as soft as a night gown
couldn’t even cut mustard so put the knife down
you are not the king you’re just posing with my crown
you are not the king you’re just posing with my crown
[verse 2]
the saga begins sh-t escalates so quickly
road so shift get your marrow clap quickly
pr-cks chat swiftly, while mandem attack sickly
just to think it’s the same kid you stacked chips with
went to school with ‘em, bought your first tool with ‘em
now you’re in the pool riddled with bullets it’s not cool
trust don’t live here, l-st for the chips here
to push a pluck sh-ts here
kids will flip, yeah
no discussing your life ain’t worth nothing here
turn your bright lights to night lights for bluffing here
come on man i don’t play with these kids
you can’t reason with a man with no reason to live
what can you prove to a dude who thinks he already dead
move food with the kid but he already fed
everbody gat [?], back stabbing is black habit
we ever stick together now, that will be black magic
instead we steady flipping, ready to stick the clip in
d-ckheads that get it twisted get lifted like a magician
this is the road religion, we cold as a winter blizzard
blowing our little triggers and falling our little figures
but, on the real cuz we dying inside
don’t watch the screw face that we hiding behind
go to the box talk to the mandem with time
9 out of 10 say they wish they could have rewind
it’s why i can’t stand theses grime kids talking ‘bout bussing
prats can’t even scr-p how the h-ll are you thuggin’
sh-t is serious talking about taking a life away
we no k!llers but we play anyway
praying away, stuck in the same fate
moving at 100 miles an hour but we stuck in the same place
it’s h-ll on earth and they shook they halfway crook
they couldn’t ramp, couldn’t come where i look
couldn’t read what i read, or see what i see
or go where i go, or be where i be
man ain’t close to akala, straight off the top harder
here with tim westwood man they can’t touch it
the flow is black russian, yo
have blood rushing
man can’t ramp with akala it’s nothing
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